Ashes and Embers
by LinneaLarke
Summary: A terrible accident at Longbourn leaves the Bennet family without a home. Shifted from place to place, they attempt to rebuild their lives in the face of poverty and possible ruin. As Elizabeth attempts to salvage her future, she must also contend with the pressures of society. Will she every find a place to call home? (HEA for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, don't worry!)
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to my first P&P story! I've been a massive Austen fan since I was too young to completely understand the books, but it's taken me a long time to put my toe into the water of fan fiction. This is a novella in progress, with relatively short chapters of 1000 to 2000 words. This is an early draft, so the story may change slightly as I progress. I'm planning to update about once a week, unless I'm able to write faster. Thank you so much for reading!

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Elizabeth Bennet had never known such a strained silence over the breakfast table. The household at Longbourn had been more accustomed to a state of mild uproar: with five daughters of wildly varying temperament, a mother passionately devoted to the cultivation of her dyspeptic nerves, and a sarcastically inclined father, it could scarcely be otherwise.

On this uncomfortable morning, however, the cumulative disasters and humiliations of the week had taken their toll on every member of the family. Mrs. Bennet, red-eyed and with a nose of complementary colour from untold hours of indignant weeping, sat rigid at the table, balefully staring down at her eggs as they congealed on the plate. Her tearful fury at Elizabeth's refusal to marry Mr. Collins had not yet run its natural course, and Elizabeth felt that this thundering sulk could very well persist until the end of her mother's natural life. That Elizabeth would turn down the opportunity to secure her family's future by marrying the cousin on whom their estate was entailed was entirely beyond Mrs. Bennet's comprehension or absolution.

Across the table, Mr. Bennet, complicit in his daughter's decision and his wife's disappointment, offered no comments over his caraway cake. Tormenting Mrs. Bennet's nerves was one of the great joys of his life, but after several deafening days of unremitting lamentation from that lady, even he had had his fill of the sport. He dared no utterance which might encourage a renewal. Indeed, he scarcely raised his eyes from the volume of essays he had brought to table, thus denying Elizabeth the relief she might ordinarily have found in the exchange of knowing and sympathetic glances with her father.

Her sister Jane, closest to her in age and affiliation, mutely stirred a cup cold tea, absorbed in her own private distress. Mr. Bingley, the young gentleman who had won Jane's heart over the past few weeks, had failed to put forth the expected offer. Worse yet, an abrupt letter from his sister had arrived yesterday, detailing their defection from the country and in consequence all but severing their acquaintance. More shocking was the paragraph Elizabeth had read so many times over that the words seemed imprinted on her mind.

" _I have something still more interesting to relate; I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country without confiding them. My brother is to be married; we hope an announcement of the delightful day may come as soon as ever we arrive in London. The attachment has not been widely known; a secret engagement of two childhood sweethearts. Nothing could be more romantic, and the depth and constancy of my dear brother's love through this time of concealment does him the greatest credit. I am not at liberty to name the blessed girl as yet, but believe me that I think she hardly has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and myself is heightened by the prospect of her being hereafter our sister...perhaps by Christmastide."_

A secret engagement was an uneasy thing, but to trifle with Jane's heart when Mr. Bingley knew himself to be otherwise committed was a very shameful one. Elizabeth could hardly credit that her sister could be so imposed upon, and she longed to expose Bingley to public censure he so surely deserved. His sister's behaviour, likewise, she could never excuse. To Elizabeth, Caroline Bingley's design in sharing such a confidence with Jane as they prepared to leave Hertfordshire could only be to wound. Jane, generous of spirit to a fault, pleaded that Caroline must have meant to warn her that Bingley's heart was not at liberty, thereby to save her further pain. Elizabeth could not agree.

Outwardly, Jane bore her trial with the serene patience of a stained-glass saint. Only an attentive sister would notice the tell-tale signs of heartbreak: at night, Jane cried silently under the covers, and in the morning hesitated to speak more than three short words at once lest her voice might betray her with a quiver.

As for the other Bennet daughters, Mary was allied with her mother and regarded Elizabeth with a haughty censure which belied her position as a younger sister. Kitty repetitively scraped the tine of her fork against the rim of her dish. Lydia tipped back her chair and idly rocked on its hind legs, casting her gaze at the plaster rosette of the breakfast room's ceiling.

"La!" she declared at last "How fearfully dull you all are today! Has no one _anything_ amusing to relate?"

Jolted from his reading by her outburst, Mr. Bennet concealed a smile and felt the revival of his customary wit. It was not a day to test the tempers of his wife and daughters, but the habit of indulging his own private jokes was too strong. He took in the grand silence of the table and, forgetting his earlier reticence, ventured forth.

"No, indeed." said he. "I relish this refreshing interlude of peace. If thwarted engagements can bring perfect quietude to a such house as this I must encourage you girls to drive away as many young men as may come calling! Well done Lizzy! Well done, Jane!"

The effect was immediate. Mrs. Bennet burst into noisy tears and Kitty did likewise, giving in to the undercurrent of hysterical tension which had marked the morning. Jane paled. Lydia shrieked with mirth at the discomfiture of the entire table. Elizabeth met her father's eye, but this time the look that passed there was not one of mutual comprehension. She felt her temper rise and struggled to retain her countenance. She was saved from an utterance she might soon regret by Mary, whose reply was only too ready.

"Fordyce himself says that young ladies must always 'give soft answers to hasty words' and so blissful peace in a happy house may be retained..." She gave her father a condescending nod. "He does not say what answer we must give to hasty decisions which affect the fortunes of an entire household" - here she fixed a severe stare on Elizabeth - "but the disposition of the female sex must always be one of mildness, and therefore I shall say nothing further of that painful subject."

Well satisfied with her speech, Mary returned her attention to her breakfast. The honey cakes would not eat themselves, and in the unwonted absence of her family's appetite, for once she could enjoy as many as she liked without interference from greedy Lydia and Kitty.

"Thank you, Mary." said Elizabeth. "And thank you Father. I find I have had quite a sufficiency of breakfast for this morning." She stood from the table, perceptibly flushed with vexation. "I had a note from Charlotte Lucas, asking me to call to before noon today." She spared a glance at Jane, who looked so white and still that Elizabeth's heart clenched with sympathy. "Jane, will you come with me for the walk?"

Jane started and looked up. "No, thank you." she replied. "I am afraid I do not feel at all well. If you will all pray excuse me, I think I shall retire to my room. But come with me, Lizzy, and let me give you the embroidery silks I promised to send Charlotte." Together the sisters escaped the intolerable breakfast table and left Mr. Bennet to reflect once more on the folly of a dig too far.


	2. Chapter 2

To Elizabeth, the relief of being outdoors and walking was enough to revive her spirits considerably. The previous week of unrelenting rain had kept the Bennets confined indoors, in such constant proximity as must have been odious even without the additional complications brought on by disheartening Bingleys or discommoding Collinses. As the welcome exercise brought a flush to her cheeks and a fresh light to her eyes, she took in a deep, unconstricted breath. It was a bright, clear day, and the sun had not yet risen high enough to dispel the gentle glitter of frost which lay lightly on the fields of Hertfordshire. What it was to walk, alone with her thoughts and with all the glory of countryside belonging to herself alone for a few brief moments!

The few miles to Lucas Lodge were as familiar to Elizabeth as the drive of Longbourn itself could be. From childhood the friends made the short journey between the houses several times a week, flying back and forth with a bit of news to share, a bit of ribbon to lend, or simply a desire to spend a few hours in each other's company. Charlotte's advantage of seven years over Elizabeth strengthened the affection between them rather than presenting any impediment. The older girl was steady and unromantic but not without wit, and possessed an unselfish and encouraging nature. The lack of accord between Mrs. Bennet and her second daughter was of long standing; in Charlotte, Elizabeth found a more compassionate guide to the vexations and vagaries of girlhood than her mother could ever offer.

Elizabeth had scarcely made half a mile's progress before she was surprised to see Charlotte herself hurrying down the road towards her.

"Lizzy! How convenient it is that I should meet you here! My plans for the morning have changed. My mother has discovered herself in urgent need of a length of tape this morning and sent me off to Meryton to fetch it. She claims that no one could do the errand but I: Maria is likely to forget what she went for, and Mama claims the clerks always overcharge the servants. I intended to call for you at Longbourn and take you with me. I did have some particular news I wished to share with you...but it will keep until we return. You have no objection to walking into town with me, have you?"

"Certainly not. I may not possess Lydia's particular passion for millinery but you have never known me to refuse the enticements of the haberdasher's shop. But what of your news? Pray, do not make me wait. We may converse just as comfortably on the way."

At this, Charlotte glanced at the ground. While she was not a girl much inclined to blushes, her colour increased.

"If you will forgive me, I think it had better wait until we are at home and assured of privacy." She offered no further explanation and so, after an awkward pause, Elizabeth took up the burden of conversation, sketching for her friend the details of recent life at Longbourn. The story of Jane's dejection was briefly told, though Elizabeth was careful to omit the detail of Bingley's anonymous fiancee. She painted a rather more colourful picture of Mrs. Bennet's fury and Mr. Bennet's mockery. Charlotte winced in sympathy.

"Poor, poor Jane. And poor you. I wonder at your patience. It is a blessed thing that you are not made for ill-humor, Lizzy. But do not take your mother's anger so much to heart. Truly, as you say, your character and Mr. Collins' could never have come to accord. It may be that in time...and perhaps in not _very_ much time, this unfortunate interlude will lead to a greater happiness for all."

"Oh, I will never have a moment's regret on that count. It is a blessing that his offended feelings took him into town for the last days of his visit. I could not have abided another moment of Mr. Collins! The conceited, narrow-minded, pompous…"

Charlotte seemed to lose her footing for a moment, and Elizabeth took hold of her arm at once, steadying her friend. Charlotte gave a tight laugh.

"Forgive me, a stone in the road. I must say, Lizzy, while your father's lightness of tone is to be regretted, you do seem to have a talent for finding men disagreeable. Mr. Collins' manners could not please, you now declare the universally admired Mr. Bingley to be fickle and faithless because he is obliged to return to London on pressing business, and you were forever finding an excuse to argue with his friend, Mr. Darcy. Can it be that no gentleman of your acquaintance is worthy of a word of praise?"

"Oh, Charlotte, do not reproach me with the spectre of Mr. Darcy. If I find him disagreeable it is by his own design. There is a man determined to forbid my good regard at every turn. And when I think of the harm he has done Wickham! It is a terrible shame. No, it is not just of you to distinguish my dislike of him as something strange. The whole of Meryton shares my opinion of the fine Mr. Darcy. You know it to be true!"

Charlotte smiled. "Forgive me if I have probed to far into your feelings, my dear. But what of your feelings for Mr. Wickham? Perhaps he is an exception to your general condemnation of men?"

"Who could not praise Mr. Wickham? I did miss him at the Netherfield Ball, but I have Mr. Darcy to thank for that. Yes, Mr. Wickham is a very satisfactory example of what a young man should be: agreeable in every particular. If I could bear to break Kitty and Lydia's hearts I could almost be persuaded to fall in love with him!"

Elizabeth's eyes snapped with amusement as her friend shook her head at such a speech. They had reached the entrance of the draper's shop, and Charlotte dreaded to think the might be overheard. She attempted to look stern.

"Lizzy, can you never be serious? You are incorrigible!"

"Do not worry, Charlotte, I know it well. My mother tells me so fifteen times before breakfast. One day I may learn to stop saying exactly what's on my mind. But let us have done with the tiresome subject of gentlemen's excellencies and imperfections and turn our attention to the far superior theme of ribbons."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Oh wow! I'm so grateful and excited by all the lovely readers and responses that I couldn't help myself. I finished up this chapter and I was planning to hang on to it to give me a bit of a buffer, but I couldn't hold back. This one's a bit longer than the last two! Thank you thank you thank you for the reading and the feedback. You've got me all fired up to write again before I go to bed for the night. I'll try to get another chapter ready to post ASAP. :D xx Linnea**

The girls stepped into the shop and while Charlotte sought the clerk's assistance with the vital length of tape, Elizabeth found herself absorbed at the counter with a tray of dazzling agate buttons just arrived from London. Stirring her finger through the cool, smooth stones, she hunted for a pair she thought her older sister might love. A gift was nothing to a broken heart, but Elizabeth knew Jane was always painfully grateful to have been thought of. Perhaps a little present could bring a little brightness to her day. Jane considered herself so little, and others so much. _"And some people consider you not at all, but they are foolish and blind."_ Elizabeth felt her mouth tighten at the thought. _"Dishonest, deceitful..."_

"I say, Miss Bennet, how extraordinary! I didn't think to see you again before we left!"

Elizabeth froze, head still bent over the buttons, and did not dare to turn and see who addressed her. That particularly clear, warm, enthusiastic voice could belong only to one man. Charles Bingley. Mr Bingley! In a draper's shop! Desiring conversation!

"This is a wonderful thing, really. Isn't it, Darcy! What tremendous luck this is!"

Oh, worse and worse. Mr Darcy! Had this morning's torments no end? What awful fate had sent two _men_ into a draper's shop on a Friday morning? Was Mr. Collins now on his way to complete the dreadful trifecta? Hardly ten seconds had past since Mr. Bingley's greeting, but Elizabeth feared she might require a full ten minutes before she could bear to turn around and face the pair. Charlotte, possessed of that feminine power to sense a friend's distress, seemed to materialise by her side in an instant. She slipped her arm into Elizabeth's elbow and gently spun her about to meet the men's gaze. Elizabeth kept her head slightly averted, hoping the brim of her bonnet was enough to conceal the thoughts she knew must be transparent in her face. She wondered exceedingly how Mr. Bingley could be bold enough to address her so in public. Was he not ashamed of the false part he had played with her sister? _"His conscience did not prick him when he pretended affection for Jane when all the while his heart was promised to another. He is clearly shameless."_ Her opinion of his character plunged yet lower at such a counterfeit display. How was she to speak to such a man? She could not trust herself to remain entirely civil. Charlotte rescued her from the necessity.

"Mr. Bingley. Mr Darcy. Good morning! Miss Elizabeth told me you were bound for London today. Is that still your design?"

"Oh indeed. We should have been off an hour since but there was some bother with the horses. My sisters, in their infinite wisdom, decided the wait would be best occupied with a tour of Meryton's fine merchants. They have not purchased so much as a button, but they seem tolerably diverted."

He grinned and shook his head, the very picture of artless amiability.

"In truth they will be very much more diverted with this chance meeting! Louisa! Caroline! Come here! Only imagine who Darcy and I have just encountered!"

Two gorgeously gowned ladies on the other side of the shop raised their eyes from a bolt of damask to regard their brother. Elizabeth squirmed to see the light of disbelief dawn on Caroline Bingley's face, only to be replaced in an instant with an arch mask of satirical surprise. Her sister, Mrs. Hurst, betrayed no expression beyond a mild air of boredom, as was her wont. Miss Bingley bustled to Mr. Darcy's side and took his arm confidingly.

"I am all astonishment! Mr. Darcy, you must allow this to be a wonderful coincidence! Not twenty minutes ago we were discussing how _very_ typical of the English countryside the Bennet girls are...all four...no, it it five? Dear me, yes, all _five_ of them. Such vigor! Such _rustic_ vitality. Charming, are they not, Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth's cheeks burned. The thought of Caroline Bingley and Mr. Darcy _discussing_ anything related to the Bennets filled her with chagrin, but she could not resist a glance to see how Mr. Darcy received this query. He had not seemed to remove his gaze from the toe of his left boot throughout the entire interlude. He did not trouble himself to do so now, but merely bowed slightly in acknowledgement. Mr. Bingley answered for him.

"I declare that I have never met more charming ladies anywhere." He paused. "Your sister Miss Bennet is not with you? I do hope her health does not keep her at home. Though no one could be more charming even when ill. I mean to say..."

Elizabeth's chin snapped up. That he should dare to mention Jane at all, particularly in so familiar a tone, was insupportable. The outrage of it sharpened her anger until she found she no longer cared what her expression might reveal.

"She does very well, Mr. Bingley. Thank you." She could not keep a note of censure from her voice. Bingley looked momentarily confused. Charlotte squeezed her arm, though whether the intent was to comfort or to warn, Elizabeth could not discern. An uncomfortable silence threatened, but Miss Bingley rallied the conversation.

"I'm so happy to hear all is well with _dear_ Jane. It's such a pity she did not come to town today. I so long to see her again. She was such a friend as I never expected to find in the country. You must promise me that you will make her write to me very often. I shall quite depend on it. Now, Mr. Darcy, I do believe you intended to purchase a gift for your own dear sister. Though what you could find in such a _provincial_ establishment that could equal the goods in London shops in I do not know. I have told him so ten times over this afternoon, but he insisted that he must discover something to delight dear Georgiana. He is _very_ stubborn, you know, Miss Bennet."

Darcy looked up, and fixed his eyes on Elizabeth. "It has been my tradition for many years to select a small token to bring back to Pemberley for my sister each time I am from home. It is a little thing, but a duty I intend never to neglect. I am sure Miss Bennet knows the extent of this establishment's offerings. Miss Bennet, perhaps you would not object to giving me your guidance in this matter?" He gently disengaged his arm from Miss Bingley's grasp and moved towards the ribbon counter. It was clear that he expected Elizabeth to follow.

It was an astonishing circumstance. Choosing ribbons with Mr. Darcy! This was not a scene Elizabeth could ever have conceived of, though she was well supplied with a lively imagination. It was very odd that he should single her out, and if she did not already have such a complete portrait of his character she might have suspected that his intent was to rescue her from further discourtesy from Miss Bingley. She hesitated, but Charlotte gave her a discreet nudge, pushing her forward. Elizabeth considered that anything must be better than continuing to converse with the Bingleys. Even the misery of an interval with Mr. Darcy. She stepped up to the counter, where he was already frowning fiercely at a length of picot-edged ribbon in a violent shade of puce.

"I am not a connoisseur of ribbons, but my sister is not difficult to please. That is, she is not one to complain. That her brother brings her a gift at all is enough to make her happy, even if that gift is banished immediately to the back of the dressing table. Perhaps, with your direction, I may meet with more success this time." Elizabeth found herself smiling in spite of herself. She would not have considered a man such as Mr. Darcy to be in possession of such sentiment, or the ability for such self depreciation.

"You are fortunate, Mr. Darcy, that the selection of presents for sisters is one of my particular talents. With so many in the family, you may believe that I have had ample opportunity to practice this art. Tell me, is your sister dark or fair?"

"Very fair. Does it matter?"

"Oh yes. When confronted with the task of selecting presents for young ladies, I have been informed that it is of utmost importance. I think perhaps..."

Elizabeth was not overmuch interested in the decoration of her own person, but her eye for beauty was strong. To one delighted with colour, texture, and composition, the contents of a well-stocked draper and milliner's establishment offered a thousand opportunities for delight. As she took in the possibilities, she warmed to her task, almost forgetting the awkwardness of her situation.

She ran her gaze over the bolts of fabric stacked high against the wall and considered the great loops of braids, laces, and ribbons which hung down from a cleverly suspended bar. Intuition flared as her eye alighted on one item in particular. That would do nicely. In fact, it was perfect. She reached out a gloved hand to draw the streamer down for their consideration.

"Here we have the very picture of a handsome present. I assure you any sister would be delighted with this."

It was a gauzy length of fine silk ribbon, woven from several shades of pale peach thread, so that the colour altered and shifted with each flutter. It was scattered with minute clusters of roses, expertly formed in french knots by the hand of some gifted needlewoman. It was, to put it briefly, a most captivating specimen of ribbonkind. Elizabeth knew this was likely to be the most expensive ribbon in the entire shop, but what was that to a man with ten thousand a year? She raised her face to his, smiling and self satisfied, but as soon as their eyes met, the smile died.

He was staring at her in a most peculiar manner. Did he see something that offended him? Did he disdain her " _rustic_ , _provincial"_ taste? Did he anticipate laughing at her later, in the company of Miss Bingley? His expression was unreadable, but Elizabeth had no desire to decipher it. She had taken her fill of contemptuous looks from Mr. Darcy. He might be a most affectionate brother to the fortunate Georgiana, but the fact remained that he was also an intolerably rude man. She dropped the ribbon on the counter.

"I hope I have been of service, Mr. Darcy. I wish you a pleasant trip." She gave him a stiff nod, and he returned the same, clearing his throat and moving with a brusque twist towards the clerk to complete his purchase. He managed the transaction without a single word to the clerk and slipped the tiny package into his breast pocket. Uncivil man! She would not waste another moment thinking of him. Now she had only to run the gauntlet of Bingleys, retrieve Charlotte, and escape back to the relative safety of Longbourn. Home had little enough to recommend it, but no matter how her mother seethed, Elizabeth would be very grateful for a chance to lock herself away in her own dear room with Jane, away from the tiresome reach of such proud, unpleasant people. As she gathered her courage to take her leave of the depressing party, all composure was shattered by an unearthly shriek from the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello wonderful readers! I apologise for the last chapter's outrageously abrubt ending. Obvious cliffhanger was obvious! I will probably try to soften that in a second draft...this time around I was in a rush to post the story and that's just where the chapter finished! I so much appreciate all of you taking the time to read my story, especially everyone who has left a review. Your comments are so helpful, and I'm grateful for the feedback. Now, as Samuel L. Jackson might say...hold onto your butts. This chapter is a bit of a bumpy ride. I hope you enjoy it. Linnea xx**

"Oh, Miss Elizabeth! Oh, Miss Elizabeth! Please!"

Every person in the shop startled at the sudden entrance of Polly, the Bennet's youngest servant. She was gasping for breath, nearly doubled over, and crying too hard to make much sense. Elizabeth ran to the maid and clasped her hand. Fighting off her own sense of alarm, she spoke in low tones, attempting to soothe the frantic girl.

"What is it? You must calm down! Is someone ill?"

"Oh, Miss Elizabeth! It's too dreadful. You must come back! I been searching everywhere for you! I been all the way to Lucas Lodge and when then told me you went to town I ran all the way. I promise I ran all the way! Oh, Miss Elizabeth! You must come back to Longbourn at once! Please Miss! It's all burned!"

A creeping panic threatened Elizabeth's self control. She gripped the maid's arms and shook her, none too gently. "Please, compose yourself. I can't understand you! What's burned? What are you saying, Polly?"

Polly sobbed and clung to Elizabeth's arm. "It's on fire, Miss Elizabeth! Longbourn's on fire! They's fighting it all they can, Miss, but it's like to be burned to the ground." The girl collapsed on the boards of the shop floor, crying piteously.

As the maid's words slowly landed on Elizabeth's comprehension, the horror of this message took her fully in its grip. The bright colours of the draper's shop swirled before her eyes, and she began to tremble violently. A strong hand slipped under her elbow, and she felt herself supported without knowing who it was that held her up.

"Bingley, run for the footman and tell him to fetch us two horses this instance, and a conveyance for the ladies. I don't care where you find it, we must have a carriage at once. Miss Lucas, if you do not mind, would you see to Miss Elizabeth for a moment?"

Mr. Darcy's command of the situation was immediate and complete. He waited until Charlotte had taken Elizabeth's hands before releasing his grip on her arm. Stooping down, he spoke to Polly, his voice quiet but firm. "Your mistress needs you. You must compose yourself and go to her. There's a good girl." He raised the shaking girl gently from the floor, and she fled to Elizabeth's side, sniffling and wildly dashing the tears from her eyes.

Elizabeth struggled to regain her wits. She would not faint. She must get to Longbourn. She must get to her family. Her fear was so great that she found she could not form even the shape of a prayer for their safety. She could not consider the possibility that they might not be safe. As the occupants of the shop absorbed this shocking news, everything around her was wild commotion and upset, but she could not seem to hear a word that was spoken. Before she knew what had occurred, she found herself being put into a carriage. Charlotte, silent and stalwart, sat to one side, clutching Elizabeth's hand with an almost painful pressure. Polly huddled in a crumpled heap in the corner of the compartment. Darcy was at the window. He spoke with an earnestness and a tone of particular concern which he had never before displayed in her company.

"Pray, do not upset yourself excessively. We do not know the whole of what has occurred at Longbourn. It may all be some wild mistake." Polly stirred in protest at this but was repressed with a single dark look from the gentleman.

"Bingley and I will ride ahead and see what there is to be done. I have sent Miss Bingley and the Hursts back to Netherfield to await news. There is no question of returning to London today. Have courage. We will meet you at Longbourn." He bowed, shut the carriage door, and was gone before Elizabeth could utter a word. The carriage jolted into motion.

It was a journey of a single mile, but the minutes crawled at a nightmare pace, and it seemed to Elizabeth that the wheels must be spinning in place. Surely they drew no closer to Longbourn! She felt she might have run the distance faster herself, if only she could have trusted her legs to carry her. Charlotte gave a sharp intake of breath and Elizabeth turned to look out the window. A black terrible pillar of smoke rose over the hill, and she knew with sickening certainty that there had been no misunderstanding. Longbourn was burning.

The carriage halted at the head of the drive: the horses would come no further, but shied and whinnied at the chaotic scene which met them there. Elizabeth could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. Flames poured out of the windows and licked hideously across the facade of the building, which was already blackened and peeling. All was confusion. The urgent shouts of men rang out over the yard, encouraging each other in the effort against this disaster. Every man within two miles of the place had been summoned to assistance; servants, neighbours, soldiers and officers from the regiment in Meryton had arrived and formed a brigade to pass along buckets and vessels of water in an attempt to quench the inferno, but all of their labour appeared in vain.

"Oh, Elizabeth" whispered Charlotte, choking. At the sound of her friend's voice, Elizabeth came back to herself. She struggled with the carriage door, not waiting for the driver, and almost fell to the drive. She stumbled towards the house, deaf to the cries of Charlotte and Polly, who entreated her to return to the safety of the carriage.

Where was her father? Where were her sisters and mother? She turned her head frantically this way and that but could catch no glimpse of them. Her ears roared with the dreadful sound of the ravenous fire, and a wall of fearsome heat struck her face, though she was still some twenty yards distant from the blaze. She snatched the bonnet from her head in a vain attempt to relieve the sensation of hideous warmth, and stood looking wildly about her, desperate for some direction. Nearer the house she saw Darcy and Bingley. They had thrown off their coats and were vigorously engaged in the battle to save something of the house, heading the line. Darcy called out some order she could not hear, and a general shout of alarm was raised. Elizabeth stared as the firefighters staggered backwards in retreat. A gruesome crack sounded through the yard, and Elizabeth cried out in horror as she watched the central beam of Longbourn's roof gave way under the assault of the greedy flames. There was nothing more to be done. The house was lost. But where was her family? She ran towards the burning house under the force of desperation, ignoring the hands which snatched at her cloak to draw her back to safety. She would go to them, if she must run directly into the pyre which had once been her home.

"Father! Jane! Mamma!" The billowing smoke stung her eyes and filled her throat, diminishing her voice to a hopeless gasp. Before she had made more than ten steps' progress, she was arrested by the tall form of Mr. Darcy. He stepped before her, all but blocking out her view of the burning house.

"They are safe, they are safe! Please do not distress yourself. You will make yourself ill..." With little ceremony, he took hold of her hands, and attempted to draw her away. In her anxiety she did not attend him, but struggled fiercely.

"Let me go to them, Mr. Darcy! Do not prevent me! They may be within!"

"I tell you they are not. All are safe and accounted for. Come away. You must sit down. Bingley has sent them to Netherfield to avail of what comforts may be found there. We will take you to them directly. But please, you must be calm."

He held her firmly by the elbows, facing him, and stared down at her, willing her to comprehend. She was shaking violently with agitation, but some of the sense of what he was saying pierced her understanding. In combined relief and horror, she gave way to tears, and allowed herself to be led to safety. Darcy situated her on a low bench some way distant from the house, away from the chaotic scene.

Meek as a child and mute with shock, she sat where she was placed. Mr. Darcy seemed very much concerned for her welfare, and paid her every possible attention. He called for water and a shawl, which were produced from somewhere, and spoke to her in a soft tone, repeating his assurances of her family's safety, until Charlotte and Polly came hurrying from the carriage to meet her. After some communication with the officers and other men, Darcy returned.

"The house may not be saved, but there is no danger to the stables or other buildings. We have managed this much. The militia's men will remain to do what they can to extinguish the fire and ensure the safety of the area. We will bring you to Netherfield now so that you may relieve your concern for the health of your family, and take some rest. This..." He hesitated. "I am not equal to the task of expressing how profoundly I regret this terrible circumstance. But Bingley is resolute that you and all of your family shall be housed and cared for at Netherfield for as long as might be required. You shall have nothing to fear on that account. All the rest shall be decided in due time."

Elizabeth looked up at him in bewilderment. Exhaustion racked her every nerve, and she struggled to take in all that had occurred in so short a time.

"I thank you." she said, her voice unsteady. Darcy shook his head in embarrassment. Bingley had caught sight of the little grouping and strode over, wiping away the sheen of sweat which bathed his face, and leaving in its place great black streaks of ash.

"Miss Elizabeth...I am so profoundly sorry for you and your family. This is indeed a tragedy." He fidgeted, briefly lost for words. "We can only thank God that no one was badly hurt. The servants raised the alarm in time, and...I assume Darcy has conveyed my invitation to your family. Please...do not protest." Here he faltered again.

Elizabeth was overcome with a tumult of emotions, all conflicting. Longbourn lost: her family without recourse, thrown onto the charity of neighbours...she started as she came to her senses and began to realize what Bingley's hospitality must mean to Jane, now that she knew the truth of his secret engagement! To be thrown so much in his company, to pass each day in such intimate proximity seemed an awful fate. And yet both Darcy and Bingley had shown themselves to be the very model of valor and kindness, and until some other arrangement could be made, what choice was there?

"Mr. Bingley, your great kindness..." but her voice would not allow her to continue. Charlotte, with an innate understanding of her distress, patted her arm.

"No decision need be made yet. I shall talk to my father and mother. Our family may be large, but that only means we are used to doing with less room, and surely space can be found in Lucas Lodge..." but there Mr. Bingley interrupted.

"I must insist. Netherfield is so large a house...there is none other in the neighbourhood which could see you settled with so much comfort and so little inconvenience. And though our acquaintance has not been long, I must assure you that I would do anything in my power to assist your family at this terrible time." His voice was sincere, and he looked at her with such an expression of concern and courtesy that she found she had not the will to doubt him. When she made him no answer, he took her silence as agreement.

"Then it is settled. Let us go to Netherfield."

His smile was very kind, and he offered her his hand to help her rise. Slowly, the group made their solemn way to the carriage. As the driver whipped up the horses, Elizabeth forced herself to take one last look at Longbourn, by now hardly visible through the pall of smoke and flames. She watched until the home of her childhood disappeared in the distance behind them, closed her eyes, and wept.


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth stepped through the grand doors of Netherfield in a daze,nodding gratefully but absently to Mr. Bingley's incessant assurances of her welcome as he led her through the hall. There was no servant there to greet them, and the place appeared nearly deserted. It was an eerie sensation to walk through the house she had not seen since the Netherfield ball...could it be that only a few days had gone by since that memorable evening? It seemed to Elizabeth that it might have occurred an entire lifetime ago. The smooth marble tiles of the entrance hall clicked under her heels, as it had done then, but all else seemed changed. There were signs of the house having been recently shut up, closed in deference to the master's now-cancelled journey to London: some of the furniture still sat swathed in sheets, and the vases stood empty, missing the masses of hothouse flowers which had perfumed the air on the night of the ball.

Her mind continued to protest against the dreadful reality of her current position, but there was no opportunity to reflect on all that had passed and everything that had been lost. Mr. Bingley, followed closely by Darcy, showed her into the drawing room where she had passed so many awkward hours during the days of Jane's illness. It could hardly seem more congenial now, in so wretched a circumstance. The scene which met her there struck her heart with fresh grief. Her father sat in a corner chair, with his head in his hands. Never before had she seen him in an attitude of such dejection. At the sound of her entrance he roused himself, and lifted to her a face so devoid of colour and life that she felt almost more frightened than she had at the scene of the fire. He seemed to have aged a score of years since she had left him to his breakfast.

"Oh, Lizzy. My little Lizzy. What are we to do?" he said, in a voice so broken that she could not bear it. Forgetful of the company, she ran to him at once and knelt by his chair. She did not know how to answer him, and merely kissed his cheek.

Across the room, Darcy cleared his throat, and Bingley seemed entirely at a loss for words once more. Charlotte, who had first seen Polly settled in the kitchen with a cup of hot milk, knocked lightly at the drawing room door, and entered when Bingley bade her step through.

"The housekeeper tells me that Mrs. Bennet and the girls are upstairs, being seen to by the apothecary. They are unhurt," she added quickly, seeing the look of alarm in Elizabeth's eyes, "he is only administering some calming draughts to Mrs. Bennet, and advises that until they recover from the shock, they should all remain very quiet."

"No fear of that." said Mr. Bennet suddenly, and at that instant Elizabeth breathed a little easier. In all his distress, her father had not lost his facility for sarcasm, and at once the situation seemed a shade less black. She laid her cheek upon his hand, and he stroked her hair gently with the other.

"Bingley, I owe you a debt of such an immense magnitude that I have no earthly hope of thanking you properly, never mind repaying you for your goodness to my family. Darcy, too. I can see by the look of you that you have both stood at the mouth of hell today in an attempt to save my home." Both gentlemen seemed as though they wished to interrupt this speech, but Mr. Bennet stopped them with awave of his hand.

"No...do not tell me. I know that Longbourn house could not be saved, and I knew it when we left. I also know it was not for want of any effort on your side. For myself, I should have preferred to stay and fight the flames, but I am an old man and I could not leave my wife and daughters unattended in their distress. I cannot say what will be the end of this terrible day, but I can say that the friendship you have shown us is far beyond the duty of a neighbour of a mere six weeks."

Bingley looked embarrassed.

"Nonsense, nonsense. I won't hear of it. Please, do not trouble yourself. I instructed my sisters to call back the staff, and I imagine it will not be long before they manage some manner of refreshment. It may be a cold dinner, but tomorrow will be better."

He moved towards a drinks cabinet, but Darcy had anticipated him, stepping forward with two small glasses of fortified wine. Darcy handed one to Mr. Bennet, and at his approach Elizabeth scrambled up from her place on the floor without waiting for assistance. She took a seat near her father, suddenly aware of her disheveled appearance. She knew she must look a fright, but somehow could not bring herself to care. She accepted the drink with silent thanks, meeting and holding Darcy's eye for a long moment before he turned away.

"You are quite comfortable? Now, if you will pray excuse us..." he glanced in the tall silver mirror above the fireplace and grimaced at his sooty reflection "...Bingley and I will leave you now and make ourselves presentable."

Bingley, catching sight of himself for the first time, shook his head ruefully. "Indeed. Miss Bennet, the housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls, knows you are expected. I am sure she will be along shortly to show you to your room, so that you may rest."

Elizabeth watched them go. The strangeness of the situation impressed itself on her mind again and again. It was a puzzle she could not solve, and after the strain of the morning, she did not have the energy to attempt an answer. She sat in silence then, and smiled wearily at Charlotte, who was now seated by her side, and was looking at her with an expression of deep concern.

"Do not worry so, Charlotte. It is a terrible thing, but we are all alive."

"My brave girl. My poor Lizzy." said her father. "I do not know what I shall do for you all. You will be comfortable here some weeks, I suppose, but a borrowed house is not a home, and a home you must have. And yet," he said, and a wicked gleam of bleak humour shone in his eye "We might have said that Longbourn house itself was only borrowed, with the entailment being what it is. Your mother's cherished prophecies of sleeping in hedgerows may yet come true, and as it happens, my death was not required. Ah, perhaps it is Mr. Collins we should be sorry for. It is ultimately a heavier loss for the heir, is it not? Poor Mr. Collins, I should have said." He smiled at his daughter. "Perhaps now your mother will get over..." but he did not finish this speech, for Charlotte had jumped to her feet.

"I know that the arrangements are terribly irregular at the moment, but as Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst must be otherwise engaged, I think I will take the liberty of finding you some tea. You are very pale, Eliza, and should take some further refreshment." She hurried to the door, but as she reached for the handle, it flew open with such a speed that she gasped.

There, as though summoned by Mr. Bennet's sarcastic words, stood Mr. Collins, breathing heavily, and with such a heightened complexion that a doctor might have feared an imminent apoplexy.

"This is a calamity beyond all reckoning!" he cried, without any other greeting, all the formality of his manners forgotten in the face of such provocation. "This is a judgement greater than the fire Elijah called down from Heaven upon the priests of Baal! Longbourn house gone! What catastrophic carelessness could have led to such a pass?"

Here he seemed to slightly recollect himself, and glanced from face to face. All regarded him with fixed expressions of horrified wonder, but Charlotte's discomfiture seemed the greatest of all. He quickly crossed the room and took her hand.

"My dear, my poor dear Charlotte, forgive me. The enormity of the situation in regard to our future fortunes is not lost upon me, and it is my intention only to express my very great sorrow for the loss which must..."

"Mr Collins!" The reproof in Charlotte's voice was abjectly plain, and Mr. Collins shrunk away at its tone.

Elizabeth and her father absorbed this unfolding drama with the greatest astonishment, staring first at the couple, and then to each other, and back again to Charlotte and Mr. Collins. What could he mean by it? Why did Charlotte's usually open features seem shaded all at once?

Mr. Collins once again amended his tone. "My dear Charlotte...I should say, Miss Lucas. You are right. I quite forget myself. It is only in the contemplation of what Lady DeBurgh shall have to say about this abominable circumstance that brings me to such a lapse of my accustomed courtesy. You see, she is most severe upon the subject of household safety, and requires the servants to go about the house three times each night to ensure that every candle has been snuffed and every fireplace securely banked up. The kitchens at Rosings are under the strictest instructions to keep buckets of water to hand at all times, and only last year the estate took possession of the very latest water engine; designed for the quenching and extinguishing of fire, it can raise a column of water more than 40 feet high. It is kept in the stables so that it might be prevailed upon should all the aforementioned precautions fail by some terrible coincidence of fate."

Charlotte made no answer to this, though her colour rose still higher, and she seemed to vibrate with displeasure. To Elizabeth, the sight of unflappable Charlotte looking as though she might fly into a passion and strike Mr. Collins at any moment was confounding. Mr. Collins, perhaps sensing his peril, at last turned, and addressed his relatives in accents of the greatest condescension.

"This is, of course, a very great trial, Mr. Bennet. A very great trial indeed, no less for yourself and your family than for mine. That must be acknowledged. Whatever defect of attention, whatever negligence may lie at the root of this misfortune, we must leave to the observation and eventual remedy of providence. It is the Lord's pleasure to test his faithful, and we must not be found sleeping. To rise to the inconstancy of fortune and to overcome it with perfect patience is the flower of faith." Here he seemed to swell slightly, swept up in the power of his theme. He reached out his hand and drew Charlotte to him, and to Elizabeth's dismay, Charlotte went, however unwilling her air. Mr. Collins patted her hand. He beamed at Elizabeth and her father.

"It is my felicity to inform you that I have it in my power to inform you of wonderful news, such as must lift your spirits even in the face of sorrow. How merciful is the Lord that he mingles joy even among the tears of his people! Only just this morning, I had the honour of calling to Lucas Lodge, with an errand so sweet and a hope so earnest that the angels themselves must have smiled to see it. The answer I received was sweeter still, and has fixed in me an expectation of happiness so great that not even the loss of Longbourn house can darken my soul for long. Yes! Miss Lucas and I are to be married! I know, dear Cousin Elizabeth, that it must give you comfort to know that the dearest friend of your youth is to be united with your family in such a fortunate alliance. In a few weeks' time you shall greet her as your own Cousin Charlotte."

Elizabeth's amazement was complete. She sought her friend's eyes, trying to determine whether such a fabulous story could be in truth, but Charlotte's gaze was fixed firmly on the floor. By the colour of her ears, she was in a state of extreme mortification, but she did not deny it.

"Well, well!" cried Mr. Bennet, with a droll glance at Elizabeth. "My congratulations! As you say, this is a most wonderful occurrence. Wonderful, wonderful. And we must celebrate in due time. I should have offered to throw a dinner in your honour, but the events of today being what they were, that pleasure will have to be delayed."

Mr. Collins bowed, solemn once more.

"I will take my leave of you. My dear Miss Lucas, I must inform you that your mother is in the greatest anxiety over you, and requested especially that I come to enquire, and to bring you away home with me once you were found. The carriage is outside, and your maidservant." He turned again to Mr. Collins and Elizabeth.

"The very great kindness of Sir William to myself will not soon be forgotten. First, in allowing me the hand of his excellent daughter, and next in extending me the hospitality of Lucas Lodge, which is so complete that I declare I could almost imagine myself at Rosings...at least, at some out of the way corner at Rosings, for the meanest apartment in that house is the equal of the grandest room I have yet seen in Meryton. And so, I will bid you adieu."

But Mr. Collin's leavetaking was not complete without another quarter hour's worth of observations, condolences, and self-congratulations. Through it all, Elizabeth held tightly to her untouched glass of wine, hardly daring to exhale lest her breath bring with it some word of the revulsion she felt so keenly. When at last he quit the room, escorting Charlotte with an abominable air of proprietorship, she felt as if her heart might break for the second time that day.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Here's another chapter, lovely patient readers. I'm sorry for such a gap. The rest of life got ahead of me, and if I'm honest, I allowed a bit of stage fright to slow me down for a while. I'm back to writing now, though. Enjoy, and thank you for reading and supporting my story!_

At last, Mrs. Nicholls made her appearance, bidding Elizabeth to follow her upstairs. She was all apologies for the state of the house, lamenting the short notice she'd had to make it ready for guests.

"I've just seen your mother settled, and your sisters as well. We've put you in the blue room, and I dare say you'll be as comfortable there as you may be."

Elizabeth looked around the airy room, so much finer than the one she had shared with Jane for so many years. At the thought of the thousands of nights spent whispering under the covers, the thousands of confidences shared there, and the knowledge that they would never again see the dear corners and cubbyholes of their childhood, Elizabeth found herself unable to speak, but nodded, gratefully. The kindly housekeeper saw her discomposure and tactfully withdrew, promising to bring up a posset of warm milk shortly.

Elizabeth lowered herself onto the bed and lay in silence for some moments. She was anxious to see Jane, but her own grief was too great as yet to accomodate her sister's as well. To be alone with her racing thoughts was her only wish. A collision of images and impressions warred for space in her mind. The argument over breakfast, the strange scene in the draper's shop, the burning house. Darcy, tirelessly fighting to save it, Bingley at his side. Her father, bent with worry. Mr. Collin's terrible revelation. It was too much to bear. The house was gone, and all their belongings, too. This dress she wore was all that remained to her. To rebuild Longbourn house from the ashes seemed a monumental task. Their relatives would offer to help; but their aunt Phillip's small apartments in Meryton would never hold them, and even the dear Gardiners in London had little to offer. Their four small children made for a snug fit in the smart but modest Cheapside house, and the addition of seven Bennets would be an insupportable imposition. No, it would never do.

Try as she might, she could form no picture, no plan for the future. Her head was aching with the effort, and her very bones seemed to ache with the tension she had carried through the dreadful day, a tension which seemed only to grow as she lay there, feeling helpless. She hoped that closing her eyes for just a moment would bring her some relief, but deprived of all possible distraction, her worries seemed to grow in magnitude. There would be no rest for Elizabeth until she had taken some action, however small.

Tired and fretful, she got up and drew paper from the delicate ladies' writing desk in the corner. She would write to her Aunt Gardiner immediately, for though they could not house the Bennets, Elizabeth felt sure that her aunt's rational advice would open some avenue which her own mind was too distressed to imagine at the present moment. She began the letter well enough, but as she wrote of the terrible news, her hand faltered. She could not describe with any sense of ease the scenes from the fire, her terrible fear for her family, the gallant behaviour of two men she knew to be at least indifferent to her family. Such a communication could only distress her aunt, and the writing of it only serve to trouble her own spirits further. This letter could not be an outpouring of the heart. Resolute, she kept the note brief and to the point, assuring her aunt that all of the family were in good health, and that they were being shown every possible kindness by their good neighbours. Unsatisfied, but certain it was the best she could do, Elizabeth sealed the note. It could be sent express to London and an answer expected the next day. A knock came at the door, and Elizabeth called that they should enter. In came Mrs. Nicholls with the promised posset, followed quickly by Jane, who wasted no time, but sprang upon her sister in an ecstasy of relief.

"Oh my dear Lizzy! I hardly know what to say! Oh, I have wanted you so much. None of us knew what to do."

The girls embraced for a long moment, and tears stood in both their eyes.

"I cannot quite believe it." said Elizabeth. "Any of it. Jane, tell me what happened. I was gone scarcely an hour before Polly found me. I could never have imagined that so much destruction could occur in so short an interval. How was the alarm raised?"

"I am sure I cannot do justice to the panic of the scene. I was in my room, trying to rest, when I heard the most awful commotion downstairs. I ran down to the drawing room. Hill was in an uproar, saying there was a terrifying howl in the kitchen chimney... and there was. You could hear it growling all through the house, and Lizzy, it sounded like a great beast that would devour us all, or a terrible storm that would tear down the rafters. We all ran outside, and at once we could see the flames bursting out of the chimney. Mamma was in hysterics, but father assured her that it could be arrested in a matter of moments. Lydia would try to go back inside to save her things. Can you believe she was most grieved about her new bonnet with the pink ribbons? Kitty and I had to sit on her to prevent her, for the house was already full of black smoke. Lizzy, it was the worst thing I have ever seen."

Jane shook herself slightly, as if to throw the memory aside. "I cannot quite account for the next few minutes. It was so fast, Lizzy. By the time water was drawn from the well, the roof was afire, and the timbers were groaning. I shall never forget that noise. There was no time to save anything at all; we were too much in a panic, and if we had hesitated just a few moments we might all have been overcome. Father sent for the militia and I sent Polly for you, but there was nothing else to be done. We were all stood in the yard, helpless, and Mamma was in such a state I was afraid she might come apart entirely. I could not comfort her. I was so astonished to see Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley arrive. They flew into the courtyard and their horses were lathered with sweat. They must have whipped them all the way. Mr. Bingley came to me at once, and..." Jane stopped.

"I know, of course, that there is nothing in it but the goodness of his neighbourly heart, but no one could have been more kind. His tenderness to Mamma in her distress and the consideration he showed to me...I mean to all of us. Darcy said nothing to us but was instantly in command. If anyone could have saved the house, it would have been done then. No London insurance brigade could have done better than Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley instructed us at once to come to Netherfield, and there was no denying him."

"I cannot account for it." said Elizabeth.

"Oh Lizzy, how can you say so? Mr. Bingley has always...you cannot be angry at him for what Caroline revealed in that letter. He could never be wicked. The fault must be on my side. I assumed too much on too little evidence. His goodness to us now makes that plain. A man who would open his home to us all on so short an acquaintance...well. What I took for signs of affection were simply the outpourings of an uncommonly open and generous nature, such as he might have shown anyone."

"Jane, forgive me, but no one who watched the two of you could have doubted the nature of his regard. He was false to you, and led you to believe his heart was yours to win. It was badly done, and though I owe him my gratitude for all he has done today, I cannot likewise offer him my forgiveness for that." She could see Jane was greatly upset by her words, twisting the fabric of her skirt around her fingers until they went white, and pausing a long moment before she spoke again. Her voice was very quiet.

"It gives me great pain to hear you say it, Lizzy. At least for the time we are here, what we owe is no less than a full generosity of spirit. We must assume only the best of our host, when he has shown _us_ such generosity."

"But how can you stand it, Jane? This will be a very strange time. You will be so much in his company. Suppose he should renew the strength of his address to you in such close quarters? Knowing what you now know, how could you stand it?"

"There is no address to renew, Lizzy. You must believe me when I say I am quite certain of that now. I have forgotten everything I thought I knew. Now we have only to look forward to what our future might be."

Lizzie was silent at this. She knew that her good-hearted sister dissembled, but would not for the world increase her distress, especially not at such a difficult and uncertain time. The rest of the afternoon was employed in attending to their mother, who lay in a fitful slumber under the effects of the apothecary's laudanum, only half-waking at moments to weep and beg them to tell her it had all been a nightmare. It was a deeply trying few hours, and though Elizabeth dreaded the need to face their hosts at the evening meal, she was almost relieved when at last the gong rang. Lacking the necessary items to dress for dinner, she did what she could for her appearance with a pitcher of water and a comb, and descended to the dining room.

Dinner was a solemn affair. Mrs. Bennet remained above, in bed, but all five Bennet girls and their father sat subdued, without much appetite, though the excellent housekeeper had surpassed all expectations and provided a warm and tempting meal. Mr. Bingley, though he strained to fix his face in an expression somewhere between regret, welcome, and hearty cheer, could not seem to find many words appropriate to such an unusual occasion, beyond urging them again and again to heap their plates with food which must remain uneaten. Caroline and Louisa had reappeared, but beyond the bare formalities of condolence, they also did not venture much in the way of conversation. Mr. Hurst did not seem in any way affected by the day's events, but was entirely absorbed in his dinner and his cup. Elizabeth could imagine that she felt Caroline's scornful eyes upon her more than once, but when she looked up, it was Mr. Darcy who held her in his gaze. She was too tired to consider whether his looks held some meaning beyond absent-mindedness, and she felt she was not equal to interrogation. She dropped her eyes again to her plate and willed herself to take another bite of the savory pie which confronted her there.

"I should like to express how fortunate I feel that we should have encountered you in town today, Miss Elizabeth. To see you and your family safe here at Netherfield is the one grace in an otherwise disastrous day."

Mr. Darcy spoke softly, and Elizabeth had to pause to convince herself that he had indeed addressed her. He was still looking steadily at her, his expression rather more open than she had observed it previously. Such courtesy was almost more difficult to absorb than his usual coldness.

"I thank you, sir. I do not know what my family and I should have done if we had not met." Here Darcy looked as if he would speak again, but changed his mind, and simply nodded. Elizabeth felt herself babble on.

"You and Mr. Bingley have been such a help to us. And Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, of course," she added, with a nod to the other end of table. Caroline made the shape of a smile with her handsome lips, but it did not reach her eyes.

"It was a true stroke of luck. _Never_ did I anticipate the pleasure of hosting the _entire_ Bennet clan for an _extended_ visit: such enjoyments are not often accorded to such near neighbours. I know you, at least, will be _quite_ at home after the days you spent here with your sister. And though it is under the most unfortunate circumstance, Mr. Darcy is entirely correct that we must bless the chance which put it within our power to extend our welcome to you in a time of such _desperate_ need."

Elizabeth felt the words as a cold draft, but did not shrink from them. She held Miss Bingley's gaze and returned her icy smile.

"You are much too kind. I am sure we are all very sorry to have kept you from your plans in town, and I hope we will not need to trespass upon your hospitality for too long. I have written to my Aunt in London and I expect an answer back directly. She and my uncle may have some advice to offer us."

"Ah, the Cheapside connection! How _comforting_. Well, I do hope the reply will bring you good news. It is, after all, a dreadful thing. But we are further blessed that Mr. Darcy has declared his intention to stay on here at Netherfield. Georgiana shall have to do without her brother some days longer, I'm afraid, but we will write to her often to console her for the loss. We could not have hoped to retain his company so long had we gone to London, and we do so miss him when he is not among our party." Here she turned her face to Darcy, wreathed in smiles, but she could not draw any response from that quarter. He merely readdressed his attentions to his plate.

Elizabeth was surprised. Why should Mr. Darcy remain? What interest could he have in her family's fate? It was very admirable that he should have risen to the occasion so handsomely when faced with an undeniable emergency, but what could hold him in Hertfordshire now? He had made it abundantly clear at the Netherfield ball that he took no pleasure in the Bennets' company. She stole a glance at him now, but all the openness of his earlier expression had deserted his face. He appeared as remote and aloof as ever before.

At the sight of his dark brows and guarded eyes, the answer was suddenly plain to Elizabeth. Of course. He could not in conscience prevent Bingley's invitation, but he could stand by to protect him from the machinations of Mrs. Bennet and her homeless daughters. _He must know._ she thought. He must know of Mr. Bingley's secret engagement, and he must fear that a long stay in the same house with Miss Jane Bennet could compromise his dear friends' previous commitment. _He is a bulldog. A fierce and loyal bulldog, and he will not allow anyone to trespass. He will guard Bingley's reputation with his whole heart._

It was not, at first, a comforting thought. To imagine that anyone would need defending against Jane, the sweetest and mildest girl who ever lived, was an abominable notion. It was Jane who required protection from the wayward attentions of a faithless man like Bingley. As Elizabeth considered the situation, she found that though their positions were reversed, she had a sudden sympathy with his aim. If he was the guard of Bingley's heart, so was she of Jane's. _Let us be uneasy allies, then, Mr. Darcy._ The next time she caught him looking at her over the table, she found it in her heart to favour him with a smile.


End file.
